


too young for love

by littlelocaldreamer



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, Drunk Sex, First Time, M/M, Post 2010 Stanley Cup Celebration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:21:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23252371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlelocaldreamer/pseuds/littlelocaldreamer
Summary: Patrick’s always been his most reckless self when drinking.
Relationships: Patrick Kane/Jonathan Toews
Comments: 4
Kudos: 112





	too young for love

**Author's Note:**

> third product of the great 2020 quarantine. title by lany

“Patrick,” Jonny pants, “baby—come home with me?”

Patrick’s too drunk to be alarmed by the endearment, both of them swaying against some filthy tavern wall in a dark corner away from the team and everyone else. 

Patrick’s pretty certain they can’t be seen, he’s not so far gone as to fuck up _that_ royally. But he turns his head away from Jonny anyway, needing a moment to think—to _breathe_ —

“Patrick,” Jonny pleads, right in his ear, lips tickling the soft, fleshy meat of his lobe. 

“Jon...”

Patrick closes his eyes against the assault of sensations—his cock throbbing in his jeans, mouth dry and heaving, Jonny’s breath so hot and damp against his skin.

“I—I can’t,” he mumbles, turning his head to nose at Jonny’s hair, hands gripping his hips too tight. 

“Baby,” Jonny says again, voice breaking.

Patrick’s heart pounds and pounds. 

Jonny grinds against him and Patrick blatantly moans—right there in the bar, in public, where everyone knows who they are. 

“Christ.” His head thunks against the brick wall as Jonny rubs his cock right up against his own. 

It feels so good Patrick never wants it to stop.

They’re both hard, and Patrick’s never been with a man in his life—never even thought about it until Jonny fucked up his head so badly—but suddenly, fiercely—all he wants is to be naked in Jonny’s bed.

Fuck the morning, fuck the consequences. 

He doesn’t care. 

Patrick’s always been his most reckless self when drinking. 

It’s the perfect excuse, he reasons somewhat hysterically, it doesn’t have to mean anything if he’s under the influence.

He pushes Jonny away, struggling for a second before Jonny goes. He nearly gasps at how strong he actually is. All those long summer hours in his Winnipeg gym turning baby fat and gummy flesh into thick, corded muscle. 

He could probably fuck Patrick right here against this wall. The thought makes his knees wobble. 

“Let me take you home.”

Jonny’s gazing at him, crazed and devouring, eyes a dangerous shade of dark. 

Patrick recognizes that look. 

He’s seen it so many times; out on the ice, pushing at a player who dared to breathe in Patrick’s direction. During interviews, when Patrick’s answering questions and Jonny’s watching him with so much intent it makes him all shivery and nervous inside, afraid of saying the wrong thing. When they’re out messing around with the team, getting drunk and picking up and after enough drinks—Jonny will pull him away from whichever girl he’s flirting with and bring him back to the table, back to him. 

It’s a look of aching hunger; of utter possession. 

When Jonny stares at Patrick like that Patrick feels—terrified. Like he’s being completely consumed and it’s no longer in his control. 

“Alright Jonny,” he says, soft and certain, “okay.”

***

Patrick’s had sex; fucked a lot of women. But he’s never been this wild in bed before. 

He’s thrashing back and forth atop the sheets, murmuring Jonny’s name over and over again; all this pent up sexual energy he never knew he had scrambling to come out but—

Jonny’s taking his time. 

“Baby,” Patrick begs, voice slurring, “lemme come, please jus’ lemme—“

He lost his filter hours ago. Probably the second Jonny lured him away from Sharpy and got him all to himself. 

“Not yet,” Jonny answers, a little smug, as a bead of sweat trails down his temple. 

“Fuck—oh fuck I—“

Jonny’s got him pinned in the middle of his colossal, stupidly expensive bed. They’re both naked and flushed shades of pink and red down to their toes, having been at this for so long the delicate gray-blue light of dawn is beginning to reach through the curtains and spread slowly throughout the room. 

Patrick’s toes curl, back arching as Jonny plays with the head of his sticky cock, dipping his thumb in the slit. 

“God—“

It’s a testament to both their athletic bodies and unwavering stamina that they’ve been able to keep at this for so long.

The passion helps, too. Their chemistry’s transcendent out on the ice and it is here as well. The air sizzles with heat and lust and electricity all around them. It feels like they could do this forever. The atmosphere allows Patrick significant ease; the sting of being edged repeatedly slightly softened by the fact. 

“Like that—“

He has scratch marks down his back, a monstrosity of a mark blooming on his neck. His nipples ache from Jonny sucking on them so hard, still glistening with saliva left behind. 

“Shit,” he groans, grabbing at his curls, crazier than any bed head morning from all the pulling and teasing Jonny’s done tonight. 

It’s almost as if Patrick’s a virgin; all this newness and emotion bleeding in through carnal desperation. Like he’s back in his childhood bed and discovering his body for the first time again.

His soft, sensitive inner thighs bump against Jonny’s hips every time he pushes up into his lubed hand and Patrick can’t handle—the way Jonny keeps his touch on him at all times, gaze unwavering as he holds Patrick like he’s precious and cherished and so fucking adored—

The wet head of Jonny’s cock brushes up against his ass on every other thrust and Patrick isn’t thinking as he says, “You should put it in me.”

Jonny’s hips _snap_ up, cock sliding thick and hot between his crease, slick tip teasingly brushing his hole—

“Jonny? I—“

The room is growing lighter. Patrick’s head spins.

“I can’t,” Jonny answers, looking devastated. 

Patrick wasn’t expecting that. He wasn’t—he didn’t actually think there was going to be penetration, coming here tonight, but—

He licks his pretty pink bottom lip, frowning as he demands, “Why?”

He tries and fails not to sound so petulant. He knows Jonny’s slept with men before. Why should he be any different? 

Jonny’s strokes increase, one hand rapidly providing wet, satisfying friction up and down his cock while the other digs into Patrick’s hip so hard there’ll be blue and black marks littered there tomorrow. 

Jonny’s deflecting, looking a mix of anguished and determined. Patrick needs him to answer. 

“Jonny— you—“

Jonny’s arm pumps at an even more frantic pace, bicep bulging obscenely. He’s slack-jawed, abs bunched like _he's_ the one about to blow, and when he whispers, “Peeks—“

Patrick feels it coming, building in his body like a geyser in Yosemite—burning, bright, thundering through his core. He lifts his knees, opening himself like a spring tulip.

“Tell me,” he breathes, “please—“

He’s going to come, Jonny’s finally going to allow it—

Jonny opens his mouth, confesses in the softest and most sincere tone—

“If I fuck you now, I’ll never stop.” 

Patrick cries out as his orgasm overtakes him entirely. His hips flex, ass lifting off the bed. His hands grasp the sheets so hard he may rip them—though he’s barely aware of it. His legs shake, feet in the air as Jonny falls down on him and seals their mouths together in a sloppy-warm, sensational kiss.

“Come on baby,” he urges, gentle and encouraging, “that’s it.”

Patrick’s heart flutters as his cock pulses, at war with one another already. He feels so good, but his instincts tell him he needs to leave, and soon—

“You’re so good,” Jonny tells him, and the words settle like syrup over Patrick’s growing anxiety, “that’s it—get it all out.”

He spends a moment working Patrick through it, pulling him off slowly until Patrick’s so oversensitive he pants, “Can’t—can’t—“

Jonny releases him immediately, intent on his own arousal. He grabs his big, angry red dick, briefly stroking it before he’s coming with a loud cry of relief all over Patrick’s nipples. 

"Oh, fuck."

Patrick suppresses a whimper as he licks his swollen lips, warm liquid splashing all along his pale skin. He’s wide-eyed and trembling. 

“God Pat,” Jonny moans, falling over and gripping himself so snug and tight, “you're so hot—“

He fucks his fist like he’d probably fuck Patrick’s hole—

Patrick squeezes his eyes shut; represses the thought in an instant. 

There’s a tightening in his chest, a lump expanding in his throat. 

When Jonny looks up, sweaty and exhausted, he must notice how rapidly Patrick’s internal freak out is spreading because he immediately manhandles him into a sitting position, pressing their heated bodies together in a comforting hug. 

"It's okay. We're alright."

In this moment, Patrick believes him, too tired to think. He's dozing in mere seconds, head pounding as the alcohol wears off; hiding in Jonny’s neck.

**Author's Note:**

> i've thought about 1988's first time an unhealthy amount...come theorize on tumblr with me? @littlelocaldreamer88


End file.
